The Art of Hiding
by appletizer
Summary: Set during the episode PreSkool. Trent Boyett is out of Juv. Hall, uh oh! Four boys will have to figure out a way to remain undetected. Warnings: Slash, mild language, Cartman's racism.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: South Park and all of its characters, dialogue, and locations are affiliates of Matt Stone and Trey Parker. No profit in anyway is being made on the existence of this fan fiction. All rights reserved.

Author's Notes: Sorry about Cartman's occasional Jew related comments- you know how he is. **These remarks do not reflect my own thoughts in anyway**. Also, this is a **slash** story (Stan/Kenny, etc.), slash meaning **two boys attracted to one another**. If this offends you, feel free to press the back button. Lastly, sorry if the whole thing is a tad crappy…first fic blues, y' know? Anyway, I hope you enjoy!...oh yes, and I have nothing against fat little boys either! 

This story takes place in the episode "PreSkool". So I guess it can be considered an AU.

"The Art of Hiding"

"Of course Trent Boyett is going to recognize us after five years," Kyle Broflovski remarked mournfully. "I mean, who wouldn't know Cartman here? He's the only kid in South Park who lives on six meals a day."

"Ay!" Kyle ducked his green-hatted head to narrowly avoid Eric Cartman's wild swing. "Don't call meh a fatty, stupid Jew-boy!"

Stan Marsh sipped his can of Coke and decided to step in before either Kyle attacked Cartman or the fat kid simply jumped on the smaller boy and called it a day. "Kyle does have a point, you know. Trent is pretty smart, like it or not…he's going to remember us. Done with your soda? There's more in the cooler."

Kenny McCormick glanced up curiously from where he was fiddling with his hood strings. "Mmrph rmm mph rmmph?"

Stan made a face. "No way, Kenny! We are not going to runaway from South Park."

Kenny looked vaguely disappointed.

"Guys! You guys! I just had the most awesome idea."

"I'll bet you did," Kyle retorted tiredly.

Cartman ignored him. "Why don't we dress up differently?" He popped the top of a fresh Coke can, the crisp click of the punctured air oddly comforting to hear. "Like, you know, disguises!"

Stan considered. He shook his head, mainly to rid his head of the image of himself hidden by a scarf and oversized sunglasses. "No, I don't think that'll work…"

"Oh I see! Now no one can do anything until _Stan_ says it's okay. Well you know what- screw you guys…" Cartman stood up abruptly, having finished his soda in what must have been record timing. "I'm goin' home!"

"Mm rmhh mhh?" Kenny demanded, annoyed.

"I'll tell you what you did, Kenny…you're friends with these douches! Anyway, Trent's probably gonna be catching up to us all soon- see you all in the hospital."

Kyle shuddered, images of Indian burns and tittie twisters floating hauntingly in his mind. "Wait Cartman!"

"Whatever, we'll give it a try, alright?" Stan sighed in long-suffering. "Come back."

Grumbling about stupid Stan and Jew-boy, Cartman grudgingly took a seat. At least they had food. Cartman tore into a super-sized bag of Cheesy Poofs voraciously, still scowling. "You guys wanna hear meh plan or what?"

"Sure we do. Right Kyle?" Stan nudged his best friend frantically. Torn between asking Cartman for a plan and getting jumped by Trent Boyett, Kyle could only grunt in what he hoped sounded like an affirmative. Kenny carefully inspected a tube of mints (remembering the catastrophe that had occurred the last time he had eaten Mr. Broflovskli's "mints") and cautiously tasted one before nodding to Cartman as well.

Cartman looked a tad happier. "Okay, but first- Kyle, go get me another soda."

The red-head was exasperated. "But you just had your fifth one!"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Kyle now what is it that we are taught everyday? Help and be helped, isn't that it? Surely fetching me a little can of Coke should make up for the thing I'm about to do for you all."

Kyle seethed. "That's total bullcrap dude; we don't even know if your plan is any good yet!"

"Mph rhmm mrhpm." Kenny offered, voice muffled even further by the mint he was speaking around.

"Nope. Has to be Kyle." Cartman grinned, obviously enjoying himself.

"Go ahead dude; it's not really that big a deal, right?" Stan pushed.

Kyle sighed, giving up. "I hate it when he just has to prove he can make me do stuff," he muttered, reaching into the cooler.

Cartman accepted the can graciously. "Now, for my plan- you know we can't go overboard with this stuff, or our parents will start asking what's up."

"Yeah, you're just awesome at not going overboard, aren't you?" Kyle pointed out, frowning.

"Shut up Kyle. Anyway, we'll start out small. Kenny! Come here!"

Kenny looked up, crunching on a mint. "Hmm?"

Disregarding his earlier command, Cartman stood himself to stand beside the orange parka clad boy, making as though he were regarding the blond studiously. "Here we see an orange jacket…the same jacket worn since preschool, thanks to his poor piece of crapness- AY!" Cartman returned Kenny's glare, rubbing the side of his head furiously. "Don't throw mints at me poor boy! AY!" The pack of Lifesavers was wrestled away from the blond.

Stan scowled. "Enough about the money status, Cartman. Get to the point." Somehow, seeing Cartman belittling Kenny was stirring an odd anger in his blood…hm, well that was strange. Oh well. "Can we just hear what we should do please?"

"Okay, okay. Here's the answer to all our problems. Tell me what would happen if I did-THIS!"

"Hey! You fat dick!" Kenny yelped, jumping up and away from the bigger boy. It took the other boy s a moment to register that Kenny's voice was not muffled. "Was there a point to that you motherf-"

Cartman quickly clapped a fleshy hand over the blond's mouth, effectively stifling his next words. "Now, tell me Kyle…Stan…Do either of you recognize this boy here?"

Stan blinked. It was Kenny unhooded, struggling to bite the fat hand covering half of his face, golden locks askew, but…"Yeah man. It's Kenny."

"Just Kenny," Kyle agreed. "Tell me again what we're doing?"

Cartman sighed in exasperation, finally releasing and pushing away the smaller boy. "Alright gentlemen, let me rephrase meh question…Would either of you recognize this boy if you were _Trent Boyett_?"

Kyle hesitated. "Oh yeah- Trent's never seen Kenny without his hood, has he?"

"Wait, this is your plan? Take off our hats?" Stan asked skeptically.

"Not just our hats, gentlemen…change our hairstyles as well. Dress differently! Stan, you seemed to like being a Goth…"

"Hold on, this is it?" Kenny inquired, frowning. He blew a lock of blond hair from his eyes. "This is your big foolproof plan? Geez, with all that fanfare you would have thought-"

"Shut up Kenny"

"But wait Cartman…my mom would kill me if I did anything to my hair."

"And no, I did not like being a Goth." Stan pointed out flatly.

"You looked nice though." Kenny said without thinking.

Cartman groaned. "Kenny, please. This is no time for faggocity."

The blond boy flushed. "Shut up! I didn't mean it like…I'm not…!"

"Thank you," Stan cut in with a smile. He watched with some level of amusement as Kenny turned an even darker shade of pink. This was fun.

Cartman had fortunately turned his attention to a certain Kyle Broflovski. "Kyle, maybe you should dress as a hippie…"

"No way fat boy. I'm not giving you any excuses to beat me up."

Cartman pouted. Well, you couldn't win everything.

Thank you for reading! Yes, I used plenty of references to different episodes in this fic. Kenny's just a little mint junkie, ain't he? Please review and tell me if you'd like to see additional chapters. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Oh, and please drop a word on whether you would like to see Kyle and/ or Cartman paired with anyone. Thanks again!


	2. Chapter 2

SilverShadow5947: Kudos to my first ever reviewer! Thanks for the encouragement; I'll work on getting these chapters out quickly. Oh yes, and about the mints- there was that episode where Kenny eats a bowlful of what seems to be mints in Kyle's dad's parlor, but they turned out to be pills of some sort. Bye-bye Kenny. 

Venus-gurl: Thanks much! I hope this chapter is good too. I'm getting a few more ideas, but feel that they might have to be touched up a tad. Well, that writing for you, eh?

Jester-chan: I'm so flattered! Much love for the support. Enjoy chapter two!

Well, here's chapter two. Stan and Kenny get a little time to bond. We also get Kenny's transformation underway. I hope enjoy!

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Chapter Two

Stan counted eight alligators before the haggard-looking old door before him was haphazardly swung open. Instantaneously, he plastered a wide, peppy grin on his face. "Hi Mrs. McCormick!"

The tall red-haired woman looming over him squinted tiredly. "Oh, hello. You're Kenny's little friend, aren't you. Wait…" Her eyes focused on the dark, coarse bag Stan had hefted over his shoulder. "Dang it, did you lot get my son killed _again_? Now, I told you boys to be careful with him; Kenny's really down on his luck these days-"

"No, no, Kenny's fine…I think." Stan inclined his head curiously. "Isn't he home right now?"

Mrs. McCormick blinked. "Oh. Well, he might be. You wanna check?"

"Sure." Stan knew his way around Kenny's house; he and the others had been here plenty of times before. He was pretty sure that Kenny's room was just down the hall and to the right. Cautiously, Stan picked his way through the smatterings of beer cans, taking care not to wake Stuart McCormick, who was dozing on the ragged couch. He could hear the shrill, out-of-tune squawks of a harmonica blasting from Kevin's room and somewhere in the near distance Kenny's younger sister let out a happy shriek.

Stan kicked Kenny's door open, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder in hopes that it would cease its insistent chafing. "Hey Kenny, I brought you some of my old clothes. Cartman said that I…" Stan peeked inside, mortified to find that Kenny was asleep. "Oh…" Kenny was wrapped snugly in a mound of sheets, head buried into his arms. His trademark orange hood, though still up over his head, was not pulled so tight as usual, allowing several strands of hair to peek out coyly. Upon hearing Stan speak, Kenny had groaned and rolled over in bed, scrunching himself into a loose ball.

Stan hesitated, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself. He took a moment to glance around his friend's room. There was a stained closet with one of its sliding doors broken and crooked in its frame. Next to it was an aged and fading racecar poster that had probably belonged to Kenny's father at one point. Kenny's name was scribbled messily on random places on the walls in red crayon, a factor that Stan was quite familiar with. Stan remembered that he, Kyle, and Cartman had once spent an entire afternoon helping Kenny mark the room as his own when they had been in preschool.

Preschool.

Stan shuddered and reached for Kenny's shoulder, shaking it urgently. "Kenny. Kenny, wake up man."

Kenny shifted, eyes blinking open slowly. "Cartman made me do it," he insisted sleepily as he attempted to turn away. Stan sighed and caught his friend's arm.

"C'mon Kenny. I've got some stuff for you. You want five dollars Kenny?"

"Haha, genius." The blond rubbed at his eyes and sat up, his hood sliding off and hanging limply at his back. "What are you doing here Stan?"

"I just said. Cartman's over at Kyle's' getting their new looks figured out. Meanwhile, we're supposed to be helping each other. Maybe if weren't having nappy time, you'd have heard too."

Kenny stuck his tongue out. "Screw you Stan." He smoothed his hair back and replaced his fallen hood, pulling the strings until only his eyes and the bridge of his nose were visible. "Mmph rmeem mrm mprh pmrrm?"

Stan guessed that Kenny had asked something to the extent of "you really think this will work?" "Hey, I don't trust Cartman's wacky plans anymore than you do, Kenny, but you've gotta admit that it's the best shot we've got." Kenny seemed skeptical. "Really. You wanna hear what his Plan B was? He wanted us to order a Phonics monkey, get a bucketful of cow crap from that farm down the street, mix it with 50 wads of chewed bubble-gum, get the monkey to dress up as Elvis, take it over to-"

Kenny emitted a muffled sound of awed disgust and Stan grinned. "I thought so. That's why I figured, 'aw, what the heck' and brought this." He swung a dark brown duffel bag onto the bed beside Kenny. "Check out the stuff inside. Who knows; you might like it."

The orange hood was thrown back. "Okay, I'll look at it. Is it your stuff?" Stan nodded and Kenny dug through the bag curiously. "This stuff is almost new. You sure this is okay?"

"Don't worry about it. It's all too small for me now anyway. Oh, and that…" Kenny had lifted out a dark green track jacket that had caught his eye. "Cartman told me specifically not to give you anything with a hood. You might get tempted, y'know?" Kenny rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Guess I'll have to admit he's right on that one." Kenny pulled his parka from his head, exposing his painfully thin torso for a moment before pulling on a white T-shirt with a bright red collar line. He inhaled deeply. "This smells good."

Stan blushed. "Oh, I wore that to my mom's friend's wedding and got my cologne on it. I guess the smell didn't wash off…sorry."

"No, I like it." Kenny closed his eyes and smiled. "What kind is it?"

"Uh…I think it's called 'Old Spice'." Stan watched Kenny as he smoothed down the shirt and began shrugging into the jacket. "My mom just bought me a new bottle, but my old one is still pretty full. Do you want it?"

Kenny's face lit up. "Really? But are you sure? Cologne is expensive…"

"Nah, I told you, I have two now. It's no big deal," Stan assured him. Slightly embarrassed, Kenny ducked his head and mouthed a 'thanks'.

Stan waited, feeling a little embarrassed as well. He felt a profane sense of pride in making Kenny happy, but at the same time it felt a little funny. Not a bad funny, but it was weird nonetheless. "I brought a pair of my jeans too. You can put them on now, I won't look."

"Oh…thanks." Kenny reached into the duffel bag right when the phone began to ring. "Um, that must be the other guys?"

Stan followed the sound of the cordless to a corner of the room. "Yeah, probably. I'll get it." He flipped the phone open, making sure to keep his eyes averted away from the blond. "Hello?"

"Stan, is that you?"

"Hey Kyle. How's it going with you and Cartman?" Stan picked at a loose thread hanging from the side of his brown jacket.

"Stan, you and Kenny had better get over to the hospital."

Stan plucked the thread off and shook it from his hand nonchalantly. "What, is that where you're calling from? Listen, if Cartman still thinks that dropping rocks on his head is gonna help…"

There was a heavy pause. Stan could hear Kyle breathing quickly. "Kyle? It _is_ Cartman, isn't it?"

"No. It's Butters, Stan. Trent Boyett got him."

Stan froze. "Trent? Butters?" He took a breath to steady himself. "He got him good, didn't he?"

"He got him good. He got him real good. Just come over here, it's safe at Hell's Pass. Cartman wants to have a meeting, I think."

"Right. We'll be right there." Stan snapped the phone shut and turned to face Kenny, who was watching curiously. "Kenny, come on. We're going to the hospital."

Kenny tilted his head. He seemed hardly recognizable, dressed in casual attire, with face and golden hair in full view. "Wait, what happened to Butters? Why were you talking about Trent, Stan?"

Stan could only shake his head in dismay. "Trent Boyett is on to us, Kenny. He's probably already coming for us right now."

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Well, there you have it. I hope you don't think I'm being too mean to poor Butters…it really did happen after all! Anyways, go ahead and drop a review please. I love hearing what you guys think! Constructive criticism is welcomed.


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